wings
by nuclears
Summary: (AU) When Massie Block dies, the charge to the guardian angel by the name of Derrick blindly saves her from the realm of the dead, she attains the ability to see through the glamour protecting guardian angels and demons from being seen, threatening her life from both the demons around her and the fatal attraction to her golden-eyed charge.
1. Chapter 1

**This idea has been in my head for a while, and I wanted to see how it looked down on paper.**

**Or virtual paper.**

**(AU) Every human has a guardian born from the gates of heaven, beings invisible to their charge, guiding and protecting them from any dangers. Each angel was different, but none as reckless as the eternal with the golden eyes and hair, the man who dared to love his charge. **

**I do not own the clique.**

ஜஜ

Derrick was an angel, but he sure as hell wasn't perfect.

His gold eyes flickered over as his charge crawled into her amber bedspread, clad in only an oversized green T-shirt that ran down to her thighs and a pair of black boyshorts. It was hot that night so the brunette girl only pulled the thin sheets over her, too hot to push the covers up her lithe body further than her tanned stomach.

He knew that she had always been afraid of the dark. He remembered when the beautiful girl was young, asking her parents to check her closets for monsters. He knew her fear for monsters had dimmed after she had watched _Monsters Inc_, a movie she would never admit presently that she still loved.

Like any eighteen-year-old girl would be, she was concerned always for what people would think or say about her, whether or not anyone liked her, or how to fit in. He had lived through dozens of charges, and every one of the humans he had guarded has the same need to be admired by the people around them.

Humans were afraid of rejection, something Derrick could never understand.

He had watched the amber eyed Massabielle change her name to Massie because she was teased so much, seen her pretend to hate to read because people mocked for it so much, heard her sob into her pillow when a Landon Crane had broken up with her because he love done of her friends. He had remembered wanting to remove his glamour and reveal the realm of the guardians just so he could punch the bastard who had broken Massie's delicate heart.

Then again, Massie had always made him more reckless.

He had always wanted to hit or burn any man he had seen who would ever make Massie smile or laugh, any man who would lay a hand on the beautiful amber-eyed girl, or any man she would look at who wouldn't look back at her.

He had never, and _would_ never be able to touch her.

He had never made her laugh or made her smile.

He stood nimbly, moving with a soundless grace that only an angel could achieve. His golden hair fell in his eyes as he moved, shaking away the hair that blocked his vision from her.

The night was pitch black, but he could see through the pure-gold aura that radiated around him. The glamour placed on him made him invisible to her, something he was grateful for. The band of golden light around him would wake her up; Massie needed her sleep.

She had fallen asleep by now, her restless state of sleep causing her blankets to swarm tightly around her long, tanned legs. He knew that she would wake if her sheets were too tight around her and gently tugged the sheets, untangling them with nimble fingers and pulling the thinner sheet back over her waist. His knuckles brushed against her flat stomach with the gesture, the shirt pushed up from her tossing, turning, and kicking.

He didn't feel it.

This was the work of the heavy glamour on him. Even if his skin was to come into contact with hers under this glamour, he wouldn't feel it. It had less of a sensation than touching a wall—there was a layer of glamour _between _them that kept him from feeling her skin, the same with touching skin with any one of his past charges.

Massie was different from any of his previous charges.

He had had a dozen different charges, living for nearly a thousand years now either guiding them away from trouble, leading them to safety, or simply protecting them.

He had never fallen in love with one of his charges.

He had never pictured himself falling for anyone, in actuality. While it was common for his race to fall in love, it was less than normal for a guardian to fall in love. They were always moving without their own agenda—they didn't have a choice where they would be able to go, or what they would be able to do.

The only way a guardian could truly be beside someone they loved was if the other was another guardian, and they worked with a charge close to the others charge. They could only be together when their charges were together, and even then it would be for a finite amount of time.

His work was his reason for existence.

Guardians were created to protect humans, and simply that. The blood that ran in them (golden blood, as he had found out) was designed as an instrument of perfection. They were made to be strong, smart, fast, and brave.

They were designed to protect their charge.

They weren't allowed to love their charges.

Love is blind, but love is also blinding. Blind eyes can never protect a charge, and blindness is a weakness. A guardian couldn't be weak—weakness is a flaw, and guardians are simply, structurally _perfect_.

It was difficult to tangle love into perfection, for what you loved would be your greatest weakness.

Derrick knew he was weaker now than he ever had been simply because of the sleeping girl with eyes made of amber and hair made of silk.

He would do anything for Massie, and would go to lengths further than a guardian was allowed to keep her safe.

The later it grew, the colder it became. He saw a gentle shiver go over his charge and went to her, gently pushing the comforter and sheets over her and wrapping the edges around her shoulders in the way that she always loved. He knew she felt safer, and had sweeter dreams when the covers were tight around simply because she felt more protected than she had before.

"Good night, Massie."

She couldn't hear him.

ஜஜ

Derrick was walking glamoured five feet behind his charge as she slipped into her English class, taking her place in the middle row and turning to the boy next to her as he spoke to her. He was too far from her to hear what the two were saying, but the same spike of jealousy went through him that he felt are too often.

"Derrick."

Derrick swore in a way his race had been taught not to as the air shimmered by him, moving slightly in a display of gold dust before his apprentice materialized next to him, glamoured as heavily as Derrick was.

"Goddamnit, Cam."

"It seems like with your demon count you'd learn by now not to shit your pants whenever I'm next to you." Cameron grinned at Derrick, his blue and green eyes flickering over to Derrick's charge.

Derrick let his wings unfurl for a moment, beating the feathers lightly a single time to sit atop a tall cabinet. Cam did the same, his inexperience with the powerful wings causing his head to slam against the ceiling, cracking the ceiling where his apprentice's head hit. They were, like every guardian was, too strong for their own good, and it took centuries to learn to control the strength they needed to protect their charges.

Derrick laughed softly as the students in the room looked up, seeing only a suddenly cracked wall and looking back down at their papers.

"Control yourself, Cameron."

Cam grinned at his friend, his green and blue eyes going over Derrick.

Of every guardian he had met, Derrick was the one to look most like an angel. His friend had gold, wavy hair like a Greek and eyes a thick molten gold color, the color of his eyes matching the raw, pure aura around him, looking like bands of spun gold around the reckless boy. His skin was tanned, making his straight, white teeth stand out, giving him a charming smile. His eyebrows and eyelashes were a dark enough shade to stand out against his evenly tanned skin as well, giving him striking features all around, making him a strange sight to look at. He was beautiful in an inhuman way—he was as beautiful as an angel, in such a way that if he were to let his glamour down, the thought of an angel would be the first one to come to mind when seeing him.

Cam was different. While more attractive than any human man, he didn't stand out as an angel. With extremely light skin, black hair, pointed canine teeth, and one blue eye, the other green, he could more easily be taken for a vampire than an angel—without, of course, his aura of gold, light gold halo that circled his raven-haired head, and broad white wings, the marks of an angel.

That, and the power of sunlight each angel held, guardian or not.

Though he had usually no need to use it—he preferred hand-to-hand combat or fighting with a weapon crafted from obsidian, the only element able to kill a demon—he could control and harness sunlight, using it as a weapon to burn predators or a demon lusting after the blood of a human.

Demons rarely attacked guardians—the golden blood that ran inside an angel was lethal to demons, and even the stupidest demons would be too intelligent to attack a guardian personally. It was suicide either way, and the magic of an angel was impossible to harness.

The black-blood of a demon could only only mix with the red-blood of a human or beast made from the earth—the underworld could not feed on their own or beings of heaven, the reason which the demons had invaded the grounds of earth originally.

The same reason guardians were needed.

Derrick absently pulled out one of the obsidian blades in his pockets, looking it over to see any traces of navy or black blood left from the beast he had killed days ago attacking Massie's best friend. It wasn't his job to protect the people around his charge, but he knew how badly the death of someone close to Massie would affect her, and therefore protected the people with her when he guarded her.

The girl whose life he had saved was easy prey for a demon. She was lithe and small, bathed in an innocence that made her vulnerable to any beast from the underworld. She was extremely alike and different than his charge, yet someone he had found to balance out the amber-eyed girl perfectly.

Her name was Claire Lyons—he had liked her name, though not understand the human need for surnames. Because angels were created by crafters, they had no family, and were born the age they looked. Derrick was born nineteen, created to be a guardian, given wits, strength, and agility so that he would be hard to fight or kill like any guardian.

He didn't, however, like the green-eyed girl's name as much as his apprentice did.

Derrick chuckled softly as he saw Cameron's gaze fall on the girl with the long, soft-blonde hair at the front of the room, sharing secret looks and smiles with her best friend and Derrick's charge as the teacher droned on about the Civil War, something Derrick's charge a hundred or so years prior had fought in. His charge had died rather young in that war, leaving Derrick for half a decade without anyone to watch over, something a bit strange for him.

A paper airplane sailed through the room, hitting Cam in the chest. The glamour around the apprentice left the people watching the plane oblivious to the heavenly creature it had crashed into, seeing only the plane crashing into an invisible wall.

The glamour put on Cam caused their minds not to question it.

Derrick both lived by and hated glamour.

He knew that the guardians needed to live, but he hated the barrier he had between his world and the human world.

He hated the reason he could never touch the amber-eyed senior he had fallen in love with.

ஜஜ

The apprentice would seldom stay by Derrick's side.

He wasn't Claire's guard. He had no business by her, and wasn't to have an agenda to watch her—his priority was to be to stay behind Derrick for a hundred years time (ninety-five now) and observe him so that he could understand the work of a guardian angel, a process Derrick had been through, and hundreds before Derrick had gone through as well. His purpose now was to watch Derrick and follow his every command—_not_ to follow the little blonde girl and watch over _her_.

Cam knew Derrick was in love with Massie, possibly the reason Derrick had never reprimanded him for watching over the green-eyed girl. Cam didn't know what yet he felt for the small blonde girl he currently watched paint a rose, but he knew it was something, something he couldn't at all shake away from him.

He wanted her safe, and he didn't trust anyone else to keep her safe.

He was different from Derrick.

Derrick had always been wild, always reckless. Cam had never felt Derrick's jealousy—for him, it was enough to simply watch Claire laugh or smile. It was enough to watch others cause her joy or happiness, and it was always enough to hear the angelic sound of her laughter that would spike whenever she heard a joke or was tickled in a certain place.

He never thought the way Derrick did simply because he didn't know if he could bear to.

Looking at Claire and knowing he would never be the person making her happy would just about kill him.

ஜஜ

Massie was in a room with four girls he had come to know well—or rather observe well. They were sleeping over with each other, conversations he usually wasn't fond of hearing—especially when the names of whatever boy Massie liked or admired was present on their lips. It was irrational, he knew—because of the golden blood that ran inside him he was worlds more attractive than any of Massie's crushes, yet he felt the same jealousy whenever they were mentioned.

He felt suddenly cold.

The cold chill through him didn't pass, something that he knew didn't come from the temperature—he never felt hot or cold, the only times he would ever feel hot if he was too close to sunlight, and the only times he would feel too cold was when a beast from the underworld was present.

His golden eyes snapped to the window, watching as the leaves of the oak outside the redheads window shuddered ever so slightly. The golden eyes of the guardian narrowed, and his wings spread, shooting out the window with a nimble grace only a guardian could achieve.

"What's up?"

Cam materialized beside him, his apprentice's habit of coming at the worst possible times. Derrick swore more violently than before, his incandescent golden eyes directing his friend to the window the girls were inside.

"Guard them for me."

"What? I don't see—"

"You won't until you're fully trained."

Derrick let his aura and halo dim enough so that he wouldn't be so bright, not wanting to alert the demon he was hovering ten feet over of his presence until truly necessary. Cam gave his friend a hesitant look, and Derrick brightened his eyes only slightly, the essence of the sunlight in them stunning Cam into moving, quickly beating his wings so he was inside the room, watching the girls carefully.

Dimming the sunlight from his skin as best he could, Derrick unsheathed the obsidian sword from his belt, pulling it from his pocket and going to the ground soundlessly.

The demon was uglier than it had seemed from above.

It was breathing heavily, the sound raspy and unclean as though it had the blackened lungs of a human smoker, the sound amplified. The body of the beast seemed to be twisted, with a spine and bones that jutted out of the thin, sickly layer of flesh that seemed to be rotting, disintegrating, and growing back with every rising and falling of its chest.

It hadn't noticed the guardian behind him.

Derrick rammed the obsidian blade into the thin skin of the demons back, twisting the sword once it was as deep as it could go. The hit wasn't lethal, but it wasn't made to be; it was made to be a moment of pain or torture before Derrick sent the demon back to whatever hell hole it crawled out of.

The vibrations of some echoing words came from the demons lips, a demonic language no creature of heaven or earth could understand. Derrick only laughed from the sound, a rich sound of sadistic amusement as the demon whirled around, hissing at him through the forked tongue of a snake and glaring with the beaded eyes of a spider.

Grinning, he ducked under the demons swing, sidestepping easily so the beast would fall before hitting him,

"Haven't I killed you before?" He ducked under the claws of the demons, the look of happiness he held towards killing a demon strange to say the very least.  
"I can't tell—it's hard to tell one ugly face from another."

The demon shrieked as Derrick became bored of playing games with it, illuminating his obsidian blade with the sunlight he controlled and emitted and rammed the blade into the place where its heart should have been.

Demons didn't have hearts.

The shriek sounded as though the sound was being sucked away with a vacuum as the beast disappeared, twisting into blackness and falling into the dust Derrick was so familiar with creating.

Derrick wiped the black blood off of the obsidian sword with his black jeans, wrinkling his nose when the substance burned through his jeans and left a mark on his tanned thigh. He forgot frequently just how lethal the blood of a demon could be to his kind, but with the number of demons he had fought it seemed as though the golden boy should have remembered.

He couldn't remember now how many demons he had killed.

ஜஜ

**Any questions just ask, and the most pertinent ones ones will be answered at the end of the next chapter, the rest PMed you you (unless you're a guest)**

**If anyone is interested in RPing, you can always always join our RP forum—many characters are still open. The link is in my bio, or third down on the forum list.**

**Like ****_Ruby Red_****, I have a 3000 word limit per chapter so expect updates weekly.**

**Review, please!**

**—/The Infernal Devices Fans/ James 'Jem' Carstairs or William 'Will' Owen Herondale?**

**—/anyone else/ surfing or swimming?**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own the Clique. I only own the plot of the stories—I claim no rights to canon characters, brand names, mentions of social media, or anything else.**

**A/N: I ****_do_**** have the plot planned out for the story—it's much different than what someone would expect it to be, but I love anything supernatural, especially angels.**

ஜஜ

The amber eyes of Massie Block flitted across the room, falling on the caramel suede couch her parents had bought to stage the house, a house they had grown too attached to to sell. They had stayed with memories, leaving the over-expensive furniture she felt had no value of comfort, only designed to look modern and beautiful.

She could have sworn the pillows were positioned differently than they had been when she had fallen asleep.

She noticed these small things surrounding her constantly. They were small, but they were _there_—when a binder had fallen in front of her to trip her, it was moved to the side before she could fall over it.

When she slammed her locker shut in a dramatic display of anger that made it pop back open quickly, it was paused before it could hit her by something she was damn well sure wasn't gravity.

And when she slept each night, the couch pillows and down of the suede was smally different than it had been the night prior.

She never mentioned it—she had always opted for silence, watching stilly as the things around her seamlessly shifted or moved to keep her safe or away from embarrassment.

In fourth grade, a girl had thrown her coffee cup filled with steaming pumpkin spice coffee to the amber eyed girl because who the girl liked liked Massie in return. Before the coffee could burn Massie, the girl tripped and spilled it on herself.

In seventh grade, Massie had tripped over her shoelace while walking down stairs. Her foot had locked without her will against the edge of a stair, keeping herself from cracking open her forehead open on the stone stairs.

In ninth grade, an enemy had taken a photo of Massie changing into her sports bra for cross country and threatened to post it on Facebook. The girl deleted the photo mistakenly while she had tried to update it, something Massie knew she would never willingly do.

Each time harm came her way, it was deflected with a wave of confusion.

She had only told Claire about this, hoping the platinum blonde would see through what the amber eyed girl was trying to tell her, that a strange _something _filled the air around her and pinned her behind a wall of confusion and safety than annoyed the hell out of her.

Claire didn't understand.

It frustrated her that her best friend didn't, but it was something she tried to think as little of as possible. It was easier to act as though she didn't see the shifting objects around her, disappearing obstacles, and the way the pillows moved each night.

While she knew there was something away from the norm moving about her, the thought of a golden-eyed boy watching over her with a reckless spirit and a protective gaze was the last prospect from her mind.

She had never been the most religious person—she was more scientific in the way that she believed what she saw, and put her mind behind solid facts rather than the supernatural.

Magic was difficult for a human mind to understand, and the scarce humans who had truly seen and believed magic were easily grown to insanity. The images of truth behind the glamour set out to protect a humans fragile mind from the reality of the creatures made of heaven and hell protecting and destroying the beings born from earth too bright for them to see.

There was scarcely a soul every thousand years strong enough to see through glamour, a talent to be developed and crafted once after the veil was let down.

It still was dangerous.

Massie was that soul.

ஜஜ

Golden eyes flickered over his charge, paying little attention to the apprentice beside him, speaking of something he couldn't follow—he knew Cameron was speaking of seraphs, the angels who worked strictly in heaven and directly to God, much different and much easier than being a guardian.

He couldn't pay attention.

His charge was walking in a whirl of cold wind and rain, battering her face and prickling bumps over her arms, naked to the rain with her thin tank top, left sticking and sheer to her lightly tanned body.

It was a sight he would have normally thanked the stars for, but he was too concerned and swarmed by his curiosity and natural protective instinct for her to think of anything to materialize and ask her what the hell she was doing in the rain and wind, walking God knows where.

The sight would more likely drive her to insanity, but it was a tempting idea nonetheless.

"Derrick."

The golden-eyed man nodded towards his apprentice, keeping his eyes on the walking girl as he easily glided on the thin air above her, his powerful wings beating the rain away from her slightly so she wouldn't be _too_ cold.

He wasn't supposed to practice this sort of exercise by the high law, but he had always been reckless, the amber-eyed girl making him much more reckless than he had been before. He broke laws he had followed for years for her, for her happiness and for her safety both and physically and mentally.

His job was simply to protect her from demons.

"What the hell does she think she's doing?"

"She probably thinks she's walking home."

"She came from her home."

Cam sighed, running a hair through his raven hair, the glamour on him letting the rain slip off of him and not wet his body, hair, clothes, or wings.

He never understood Derrick's protective infatuation with his charge.

"She'll be fine Derrick."

_Loving her this way is dangerous, Derrick._

The second thought told him he was a hypocrite—even as the thought to Derrick's reckless regards passed his mind, the other prominent half of his mind was clouded over by a desire to go to Claire's side and see how she was.

The only reason he refused was as to his knowledge she would be with her boyfriend, Kemp Hurley. He had little reason to, but he hated the adolescent teenage boy constantly locking lips with the girl Cam thought to be _his_ angel.

He nearly materialized and burnt Kemp a night he saw his hand go up the platinum blonde girls shirt, the jealousy driving him to snap out the open window before he could see her pull away, telling the boy she felt it to not be _right_.

It was hard not to be able to speak to her, but it was even harder to not be jealous as he watched another make her smile or laugh.

He was turning into Derrick—he didn't speak so violently or angrily, but he was always more calm than his upper hand, and never slaughtered his inner demons by hunting down a physical one as Derrick so loved to.

"Where is she going?" Cam glanced up at Derrick's charge, his confusion spurred by Derrick's words as he truly watched the amber eyed girl, looking to her the way Derrick was.

Massie was walking slowly despite the rain battering her face, tugging at her clothes and making her hands tremble, but her face didn't hold the shivering pain she was in. She never looked down to avoid a puddle or crack—she kept her eyes geared forward, not letting them flicker over the grey roads as they usually would.

Her body was rigid, walking with steps that could more easily be described as mechanical than as fluid, her long limbs looking as though they had dried out, stressing them to move in the way someone ordinary would.

Her face looked toneless, her eyes looking as though they were dead.

ஜஜ

"Fuck."

Derrick's golden eyes went over his charge, his throat feeling cold where the necklace all full-guardians wore, pendants of ice slivering down his throat.

He recognized the feeling with a distant clarity than burnt his ice-ridden bones.

His charge wasn't possessed, but she was halfway there.

Flying in front of the amber-eyed girl backwards, he let his golden eyes look directly into hers, something that always pained him in an emptying way when she simply looked directly through him.

She was the one empty now.

Her eyes looked hollowed, emptied into a hollowness he had seen only scarcely many years ago. The look in her eyes were only caused by the offspring of a human and a demon, a people he tried to avoid the best he could.

Necromancers.

Massie wasn't fully possessed, he could tell—she seemed to be under a spell of compulsion, the spelled look swirling in her amber eyes flickering in sparks of darkness within the normally bright pools of amber.

Derrick didn't have a single doubt it was the work of a necromancer, one of the only beings he truly feared. He knew many, and he knew them to never fight fair or play by rules set by the seraphs, twisting words into ones they could against the guardians.

They never killed the guardians—they twisted into their minds into a form of torture, the torture killing them slowly, yet not letting them die.

Insanity was often believed to be worse than death.

He didn't notice Cam's confused look, the raven-haired boy only noticing a robotic-looking girl and a golden-eyed man looking like he was about to stab someone and cry at the same time, something he hadn't seen on his uppers face in the years he had known him.

It was fear, terror, and slivers of fragile hope swirled into a single look of disbelief and despair.

"Derrick?"

"Cam."

"What's up?" Cam tried not to let on how stupid he sounded as he watched Derrick, flying back up to him.

"Massie's spelled."

Cam's head snapped towards his golden friends with a speed that resulted in cramping his neck, the raven-haired boy seeming to not mind the pain too much—he was more interested in watching Derrick's explanation of the least likely scenario that could possibly happen to the amber-eyed girl.

"What, exactly, makes you believe that?"

"Have you looked at her?"

"Maybe someone drugged her while you weren't looking."

Derrick gave his apprentice a look telling him it was wiser for him to simply shut up and believe him, something that was most times wise for the raven-haired boy, something he was always too impulsive to follow.

"Look at her eyes."

Cam's eyes went down to Massie's, still not taking Derrick's prose as a likely scenario.

He was sure his upper had finally gone insane.

ஜஜ

Claire was pressed against the window of her rusted pickup truck, arching her back as familiar lips attacked her throat, biting and sucking at the skin there.

Oddly enough, with her boyfriend pressed against her and placing lovebites on her throat, she was daydreaming.

The images swirling in her mind were strange to her—it was less of a daydream and more of a remembrance of a dream the night before, small flashes of golden light flickering through her mind, the dream finding its way back to her mind if she closed her eyes for long enough.

_The boy was glowing—his skin had bands of gold circling him, the pure radiance of the gold color something she had only seen in the sun, something he resembled to her. His aura seemed to _be _the sun—dimmer and less bright, but still somehow illuminating the pitch black room._

_He had off-white wings that could spread to the size of the boys body, made of feathers that seemed to be as soft as a liquid silk, something she knew even without laying a hand on the surreal feathers._

_His back was to her, only revealing the wings, glowing skin, and hair than shone with a straight texture, looking to be made of the purest coal, cold yet boyish. _

_She breathed softly, and the winged boy turned, meeting her green eyes with one that was ice blue, and another a deep green, fixating the mixed eyes on her in a way that made her nearly shudder with a thrill. _

_His skin was light-toned, not minding the gold glow, and his lips were turned into a look of confusion, something also a smirk, looking as though he knew her through and through without even once speaking to her._

_He was an angel._

_And suddenly, Claire was falling, tumbling through blackness._

_The black became gold, and he caught her in leanly muscled arms, looking down at her and making her feel like she was falling again with his blue and green eyed stare._

"Claire?"

The voice of her boyfriend rolled her back to the waking world, startling her. She blinked her green eyes rapidly, trying to let the beautiful boy created by her dreams fall away from her mind, attempting at focusing her attention on Kemp.

"Hmm?"

"You seem distracted."

"Oh."

"Can you try and speak more than a single word?"

"Yeah—I mean, of course I can."

Claire was rolled out of her seat and into a new one in his laps, feeling distracted still as his arms went about her and he turned her to face him.

"Claire, you can tell me."

"I know." Claire leant forward, letting her plush cherry lips meet with his rough ones, closing her eyes and letting her tongue fall through his lips to meet with his.

She kissed him roughly to forget her dream boy.

It was easier.

ஜஜ

The amber-eyed girl continued her slow walking pace, not caring that her hands trembled with the violence of the rain and wind that battered her soft face, not knowing that the two angels behind her were worried for her life, safety, sanity, and protection of her mind as they floated gently through the air behind her. She couldn't see them whisper to each other words of concern as though they could hear her; she couldn't see anything.

She was alone in her mind, not having a thought but to go forward without even the knowledge as to why she was going forward, where she was going, or why she was going the place she was.

She was going nowhere; she wasn't there.

She didn't know she wasn't present in her mind.

The amber-eyed girl had gotten exemplary grades on her every report card since she was twelve, been accepted to top-notch colleges, and had read every book on her shelf, but now? She didn't know, and didn't care to know anything—she was lost, she was gone.

She was stolen by the castor, placed under a trance in which she wasn't in control of herself—she didn't know how to control herself because the glamour she was under blurred her from seeing her lack of self control.

She didn't see the castor watching her through the clear portal, something neither of the angels could see either.

Massabielle Block didn't see the car spinning of the side of the road, falling towards her, something only the spell caught sight of.

She stepped in front of the truck, and let her life be taken.

ஜஜ

Golden eyes stayed still as Derrick fell to the ground quickly, materializing for the first time on the grounds of earth that he ever had.

He could be banished for doing so.

His skin still glowed, his halo still held, his wings still moved behind him as he kneeled besides the dead body of his charge, the dead body of the woman he had fallen so hard in love with.

His aura seemed to darken for only a moment as he watched the girl, looking more like she was sleeping than someone who had been taken by the ice-ridden hand of a calm death. She looked beautiful still, making him feel like she was the more of an angel than he because she was so _pure_.

It didn't matter; she was dead.

He could hear the voice of his apprentice telling him to appreciate her life, and be grateful she had allowed him to fall in love with her, not mentioning she had never seen him.

Even with the dead brunette lying in front of his upper, he couldn't block the trickle of thoughts that this would result with Derrick having a new charge, far from Claire.

The trickle of thoughts turned to a dam of loneliness, then regret, imagining the beautiful green-eyed girl in Massie's place.

He wouldn't handle it so well as Derrick—Derrick was always one to hide his emotions, believing they were easier to fight when they weren't present inside of him.

Derrick was one to take action, never one to mourn.

Cam's thoughts came quickly to match with Derrick's actions, watching his upper's hand tremble by his side, quickly lost again.

The golden-eyed man brought his hand to rest on the brunettes chest, feeling her stilled heart and feeling his own chest constrict, wishing to punch something or kill some hellish creature in the avoiding way he always loved to to avoid the _feelings_ that seemed to be crushing him, twisting him, killing him.

His hand pressed harder on her chest, and a surge of golden light the same color as Derrick's eyes spurred from his tan hand on her chest, making the skin above her fragile heart illuminate in the way Derrick's aura glew.

The heart beneath his hand stuttered nervously before thrumming against his fingertips in a symphony that made his own grow still, the pale skin seeming to become more tanned with a life he wasn't aware she lacked while she was dead.

Her hand moved, her fingertips curling around his wrist before he could pull it from her chest, his gold eyes widening at both the movement and the beat of heat that fled through where her skin touched his in a way he had always yearned for but was never allowed.

Her amber eyes opened, and she looked to him—not through him as she had so many times before, but _to_ him, watching him with a wonder as to his skin glowing, a confusion as to why he was wearing what she assumed to be wings from a beautifully designed Halloween costume, and amazement that someone so beautiful could live.

"Who are you?"

ஜஜ

**The last two sections were short, but I needed them there, and didn't know much of a way to make them too much longer so I left them as is rather than complicating the story.**

**This sectioned showed more of the plot than the others did—what did you think?**

**Just because I'm curious, if you're great enough to review, where do you think the plot is going?**

**MY REVIEW BOX IS HUNGRY—FEED IT!**

**Nala.**


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